Ghost Diary Novels & Stories

All from her supposed to be dead husband. Being dumbfounded would underestimate Farrah's reaction. She didn’t know what to feel. Should she feel freaked out? Scared? Maybe angry? And who? Who’s making these calls? Dior was dead. That, his teammates, could confirm. They swear that they indeed saw Dior’s neck being bitten by a powerful zombie and flopping down on the ground lifelessly. Who’s making these haunting calls? Someone who took a dead person’s phone? Dior’s ghost? Is ghost even real?

The only sound was their footfalls; echoed from the stone of their surroundings. William watched the light dance around them and decided if ever a place would be haunted, this was it. They passed a room that clearly served as the holding cell. It stood empty and stale with disuse. It reeked of impending madness; the opening yawning before him like an omen.

After a moment of silence, she whispered, “They say this place is haunted.” Jackson’s jaw tightened as he struggled with a response. Should he admit to her that he agreed with the rumor? Should he tell her that, like Mike and her father, he’d seen and felt things that shouldn’t have been there? He hadn’t even admitted that to the men. He’d only admitted to the place giving him the creeps. Something inside of him kept him from voicing it. It was as if voicing it would make it real. “I saw that woman looking out of the window,” Melody confessed. “She’s not right. She looks dead.”

The possessive way he fucked me like he both hated and needed me. I forced a grin. “You’re crazy, man. You watch too many movies.” He stepped aside but whispered as I passed, “Run while you still can. He’ll ruin you.” Later that day, I overheard two employees gossiping near the cafeteria. “Did you hear about The Ghost? Some billionaire who shows up masked at underground parties. Pays good money, fucks like a demon, then vanishes. Nobody ever sees his face.” I laughed it off again. But deep inside of me, i was worried for myself.

“We’re getting there.” A soft chime sounded on their end. Ghost stepped into frame — quiet, focused, eyes sharp behind his glasses. “Matteo,” he said. “Everyone.” I nodded. “Go ahead.” Ghost tapped a few keys, and a new document filled the screen. Old. Faded. But readable. A birth record. Mama leaned forward. “What is that?” Ghost zoomed in. Mother: Siobhan O’Connell Infant: Male Date of Birth: March 12, 1995

When I turned back around, I noticed a new note pinned to the table. It was the same familiar handwriting, but the strokes seemed to carry a hint of chill this time. "Squanderer." I froze, then started laughing out loud. So this ghost couldn't just cook—she was also a thrifty, budget-conscious woman. I liked that. I immediately grabbed a pen and wrote back, "Sorry, Ivy. I was just joking. From now on, let's stick to regular dishes. I won't bring up such ridiculous things anymore." I made sure to apologize sincerely.

A red error message flashed on the screen: [TRANSFER FAILED: TARGET ACCOUNT HAS BEEN PERMANENTLY CLOSED] Madeline stared at the screen, her mind blank. It felt as though the last, invisible thread connecting them had just been severed. Her hands began to shake, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was the first time she had ever felt true panic—not the tension of facing a business rival, not the pressure of family affairs, but a raw, bottomless terror. William hadn't just left. He was erasing his very existence. She vaguely remembered William mentioning a private online journal he kept, a place for his own thoughts. An hour later, her in-house hacker sent her a link.

that I didn't expect. In a small apartment in Neo-Tokyo, a man was sitting at a computer. He was in his late thirties now. His hair was streaked with grey, and he had a scar over his left eye that hadn't been there in 1998. It was Silas. He hadn't forgotten. He had spent the last two decades becoming the world’s greatest "Data-Archaeologist." He wasn't looking for money or fame. He was looking for a "Ghost."

The moment he threw the door open, Diana, now fully turned into a zombie, lunged straight at him. "Raarh!" "Diana!" Meanwhile, Hayley activated her Ghost Mode ability, pushing the corpse cart as she moved quickly toward the restricted zone's main exit. People glanced her way along the route, but after a second, their eyes slid right past her, as if she weren't there at all. Like she was nothing more than a ghost. She moved without obstruction, opening several cages along the way and releasing some of the zombies from their restraints. By the time she reached the main gate, an alarm blared throughout the entire underground facility.